ACTS AND MONUMENTS
OF THE
CHRISTIAN MARTYRS.

The PERSECUTION in SCOTLAND, against certain Persons in Perth, in the Year 1543.

 

            THERE was an act of parliament made in the govern­ment of the lord Hamilton, governor of Scotland, giving privilege to all men of the realm of Scotland to read the Scriptures in their mother-tongue, secluding nevertheless all convocation of people to hear the Scriptures read or expounded. Which liberty of private reading lacked not its fruit; so that in sundry parts of Scotland men's eyes were opened to see the truth. At this time there was a sermon preached by friar Spense, in Perth, affirming prayer made to saints to be so necessary, that without it there could be no hope of salvation. Which a burgess of the town, called Robert Lamb, could not abide, but accused him in open audience of erroneous doctrine, and adjured him, in GOD’s name, to utter the truth. This the friar promised to do; but the tumult of the people in­creased so, that he could have no audience; and yet the said Robert, with great danger of his life, escaped the hands of the multitude.

            About this time, in the year of our Lord 1543, the enemies to the truth procured John Chartuous, who favored the truth, and was provost of Perth, to be deposed from his office, and a papist, called Alexander Marbeck, to be chosen in his room, that they might the more easily bring their wicked and ungodly enterprise to an end.

            The governor of Perth, the cardinal of Scotland, the earl of Argyle, sir John Campbel of Lunde, the bishops of Dunblane and Orkney, with certain other of the nobility, came to Perth on St. Paul's day. The same day were apprehended Robert Lamb, William Anderson, James Hunter, James Raveleson, James Founleson, and Helen Stirk, his wife, and were cast that night into the Spay­tower of the said city. On the morrow, when they were brought forth, the violating of the afore-mentioned act of parliament was laid to their charge, and also their con­ference and assemblies in hearing and expounding the Scripture, against the said act. Robert Lamb, William Anderson, and James Raveleson were accused also for hanging up the image of St. Francis in a cord; and for eating a goose on Allhallow-Even. James Hunter, a fletcher, a simple man, and without learning, so that he could be charged with no great knowledge in doctrine, yet because he often used the company of the rest, he was accused. Helen Stirk was accused also, for that in her childbed she was not accustomed to call upon the Virgin Mary, but -only upon GOD for JESUS CHRIST his sake. James Raveleson aforesaid, building a (rouse, set upon the round of his fourth stair the three-crowned diadem of Peter carved in wood, which the cardinal took as done in mockage of his cardinal's hat; and this pro­cured him no favor at their hands. These persons, the morrow after St. Paul's day, were condemned to death for violating the act of parliament, in conferring upon Scripture, and for eating flesh upon days forbidden.

            After sentence given, their hands were bound, and the men cruelly treated. Which thing the woman behold­ ing, desired likewise to be bound for CHRIST's Sake. There was great intercession made for their lives to the gover­nor, who of himself was willing that they should be delivered. But the governor was so subject to the priests, that he could not do what he would. So they were car­ried by a great band of armed men (for they feared rebel­lion in the town,) to the place of execution, which was common to all thieves, and that to make their cause appear more odious to the people.

            Robert Lamb at the gallows-foot, made his exhortation to the people, desiring them to fear GOD, and leave the leaven of papistical abominations: and every one com­forting one another, they commended themselves to GOD, and died constantly in the Lord. The woman desired earnestly to die with her husband, but she was not suf­fered; yet, following him to the place of execution, she exhorted him to perseverance and patience for CHRIST's sake; and parting from him with a kiss, said, " Husband, rejoice, for we have lived together many joyful days; but this day, in which we must die, ought to be most oyful unto us both, because we must have joy for ever; therefore I will not bid you good night; for we shall sud­denly meet with joy in the kingdom of heaven." The woman, after that, was taken to a place to be drowned, and although she had a child sucking on her breast, this moved them not. So, after she had commended her children to the neighbors of the town, she sealed the truth by her death.

 

THE CHRISTIAN MARTYRS.

ACTS AND MONUMENTS OF

THE MARTYRDOM

OF

WALTER MILLE.

 

            IN the year 1558, Walter Mille, (who in his youth had been a papist,) after he had been in Germany, and had heard the doctrine of the gospel, returned into Scotland, his native land, and laying aside all papistry and com­pelled chastity, married a wife; which made the bishops of Scotland suspect him of heresy. After being-long watched, he was taken by two popish priests, one called sir George Traquhern, and the other sir Hugh Turry, servants' to John Hamilton, bishop of St. Andrew's, and brought to St. Andrew's, and imprisoned in the castle there. Being in prison, the papists earnestly labored to seduce him. First, they threatened him with death and corporal torments, to the intent that they might cause him to recant and forsake the truth. But seeing they could profit nothing thereby, and that he remained still firm and constant, they used fair promises, and offered him a monk's portion all the days of his life, in the abbey of Dunfermling, if he would but deny the things he had taught, and grant that they were heresy. But he despised both their threatenings and promises. Then the bishop of St. Andrew's, with. many other bishops, abbots, doctors, and others of the clergy, assembled, and having consulted together, Mille was taken out of prison, and brought to the metropolitan church, where he was put in a pulpit before the bishops, to be accused, the 2Oth day of April. Being brought into the church, he was so weak and feeble, partly by age and travel, and partly by evil treatment, that he could not, without help, climb up into the pulpit, so that they were out of hope of hearing what he should say. But when he began, he made the church to ring and sound again, he spoke with so great courage and stoutness; insomuch that the Christians which were present, were no less rejoiced than the adversaries were confounded and ashamed. Being in the pulpit, and on his knees at prayers, sir Andrew Oliphant, one of the bishop's priests, commanded him to arise, saying, "Sir Walter Mille, arise, and answer to your articles, for you hold my lord here over long." Walter, after he had finished his prayer, answered, " We ought to obey GOD, rather than men. I serve one more mighty, even the omnipotent Lord. Call me Walter, and not sir Walter; I have been over-long one of the pope's knights. Now say what you have to say."-Then said Oliphant, “What think you of priests' marriage?"

            Mille replied, " I hold it a blessed band. Ye vow chastity, and break the same. St. Paul had rather marry than burn: the which I have done; for GOD never for­bade marriage to any man, of what state or degree soever he were." Oliphant said again, «You sayest, there be not seven sacraments." "Give me (said Mille) the Lord's­ supper and baptism, and take you the rest, and part them among you. But if there be seven, why have you omitted one of them, viz. marriage?" After taxing him in se­veral other points, to which Mille answered openly and without reserve; Oliphant said, "You preachedst pri­vately in houses, and openly in the fields." " Yes, man, (said Mille,) and on the sea also, sailing in a ship." "Wilt you recant thy erroneous opinions? (said Oli­phant.) If you wilt not, I will pronounce sentence against thee." Mille replied, " I am accused of my life; I know I must die once; and therefore, as CHRIST said to Judas, I What you doest, do quickly.' You' shall know that I will not recant the truth; for I am corn, and no chaff; I will not be blown away with the wind, nor burst with the flail; but I will abide both." Then Sir Andrew Oliphant pronounced sentence against him, that he should be delivered to the temporal judge, and be burned. But the whole town was so offended with his unjust condem­nation, that the bishop's servants could not get for their money so much as one cord to tie him to the stake, or a tar-barrel to burn him, but were constrained to cut the cords of their master's own pavilion to serve their turn.

            When all things were ready for his death, and he con­veyed with armed men to the fire, Oliphant bade him pass to the stake: and he said, "Nay, but put me up with thy hand, and take part in my death, you shall see me pass up gladly; for by the law of GOD I am forbidden to put hands upon myself." Then Oliphant put him up with his hand, and he ascended gladly, saying, "I will go to the altar of God." He then desired that he might have time to speak to the people; which Oliphant and others of the burners denied; saying, That he had spoken over-much; for the bishops were altogether offended that the matter was so long continued. Then some of the young men there present, opposing the - burners, bid him speak what he pleased. Then Mille, after he had made his humble sup­plication to GOD on his knees, arose, and standing upon the coals, said, "Dear friends, the cause why I suffer this day, is not for any crime laid to my charge, (although I am a miserable sinner before GOD,) but only for the defense of the faith of JESUS CHRIST, set forth in the New and Old Testament; for which, as the faithful martyrs have offered themselves before, being assured, after the death of their bodies, of eternal felicity, so this day I praise GOD that he has called me of his mercy, among the rest of his servants, to seal his truth with my life which, as I have received it of him, so willingly I offer it to his glory. Therefore, as you will escape the eternal death, be no more seduced with the lies of priests, monks, friars, priors, abbots, bishops, and the rest of the sect of antiCHRIST, but depend only upon JESUS CHRIST and his mercy, that ye may be delivered from condemna­tion."

            All that while there was great mourning and lamenta­tion of the multitude; for they, perceiving his patience, constancy, and hardiness, were not only moved and stirred up, but their hearts also were so inflamed, that he was the last martyr that died in Scotland for religion. After. his prayer, he was hoisted up upon the stake, and being in the fire, he said, " Lord, have mercy on me! Pray, people, while there is time!" And so he with con­stancy departed.

 

THE MARTYRDOM

OF

MR. ROGERS.

            MR. JOHN ROGERS, brought up in the University of Cambridge, att length was chosen and called by the Mer­chants' Adventurers to be their chaplain at Antwerp, who;n he served to their good content many years. He chanced there to fall in company with those worthy ser­vants of GOD, William Tyndale and Miles Coverdale. In conferring with them, he came to great knowledge in the gospel, insomuch that he cast off the heavy yoke of popery, and joined himself with them in that painful and most profitable labor of translating the Bible into the English tongue. He knowing by the Scriptures, that un­

lawful vows may be lawfully broken, and that matri­mony is honorable among all men, joined himself in matrimony, and so went to Wittemberg, in Saxony, where he, with much soberness of living, did not only increase in all good and godly learning, but also so much profited in the knowledge of the German tongue, that the charge of a congregation was committed to his cure. In which ministry he diligently and faithfully served many

years, until it pleased GOD, by the faithful labor of king Edward, to banish popery. He then, having both a good conscience and a ready good will to help forward the work of the Lord in his native country, left Saxony, and came into England to preach the gospel. In which, after he had for a space diligently and faithfully labored, Nicholas Ridley, then bishop of LONDON, gave him a prebend in the cathedral church of St. Paul; and the dean and chapter chose him to be the reader of the divinity lesson there, wherein he diligently labored, until such time as queen Mary, obtaining the crown, banished the gospel and true religion.

            After the queen was come to the Tower of LONDON, he being orderly called thereunto, made a vehement sermon at Paul's Cross, confirming such true doctrine as he and others had there taught in king Edward's days, exhorting the people constantly to remain in the same, and to beware of all idolatry and superstition. The council called him to account for his sermon; to whom he made a stout and godly answer; and yet at that time he was clearly dismissed. But after proclamation was set forth by the queen to prohibit true preaching, he was called again before the council, for they thirsted after his blood. The council commanded him as a prisoner to keep his own house, and so he did; although by fleeing, he might easily have escaped their hands; and many things there were which might have moved him thereunto. He saw the recovery of religion in England, for that present, despe­rate: he knew he could not want a living in Germany, and he could not forget his wife and ten children. But all these things set apart, after he was called to answer in CHRIST's cause, he would not depart, but stoutly stood in defense of the same, and for that truth was content to hazard his life. He remained in his own house as pri­soner a long time; till at length, through the procurement of Bonner, he was removed to Newgate, where he was lodged among thieves and murderers for a great space.

            He was examined by the lord chancellor, and the rest of the council, the 22d of January; and again on the 28th and 29th, in the year 1555. Of all which he wrote a par­ticular account, concluding with these words,-" The Lord grant us grace to stand together, fighting lawfully in his cause, till we are smitten down together, if the Lord's will be so to permit. For there shall not a hair of our heads perish against his will, but with his will. Where­unto the Lord grant us to be obedient unto the end. Amen. Sweet, mighty, and merciful Lord JESUS, the Son of David and of God. Amen; amen, let every true Christian say and pray." After this his condemnation was read, mentioning but two articles, That he affirmed the Romish church to be the church of anti CHRIST; and that he denied the reality of their sacrament.

            Afterward, Mr. Rogers spoke to bishop Gardiner as follows: "Well, my lord, here I stand, before GOD and you, and all this honorable audience, and take him to witness, that I never willingly taught any false doctrine; and therefore have I a good conscience before GOD and all good men. I am sure that you and I shall come before a Judge that is righteous, before whom I shall be as good a man as you; and I nothing doubt but that I shall be found there a true member of the true catholic church of CHRIST, and be everlastingly saved. And as for your false church, ye need not to excommunicate me out of it. I have not been in it these twenty years, the Lord be thanked, therefc,.~. But now ye have done what ye can, my lord, I pray you yet grant me one thing." What is that?" said he. "That my poor widow, being a stranger, may speak with me so long as I live, (says Rogers;) for she has ten children that are hers and mine, and I would counsel her what were best for her to do." "No, (said he,) she is not thy wife." "Yes, my lord, (said Rogers,) and has been these eighteen years." " Should I grant her to be thy wife?" said the bishop. "Choose you, (says Mr. Rogers,) whether you will, or not; she shall be so nevertheless." " She shall not come at thee," said lie. "Then I have tried out all your charity, (said the other.) You are highly displeased with the matrimony of priests, but you maintain open whoredom: as in Wales, where every priest has his whore openly dwelling with him, and lying by him; even as your holy fattier suffereth all the priests in Germany and in France to do." Thereto Gardiner answered not, but looked as it were asquint. After this, Mr. Rogers departed, and saw him no more.

            Mr. Rogers had continued a year and a half in prison with much cheerfulness; during which time he wrote much, and penned his examinations with his own hand, which had never come to light, but by a memorable pro­vidence. The book of his examinations and answers he had privily hid in a secret corner of the prison. After his death, his wife and one of her sons coming into the place where he lay, her son chanced to spie something black lying under a pair of stairs; who, willing his mother to see what it was, found it to be the book, written with his own hand, containing his examinations; in the latter end whereof was contained a prophetical fore-warning of things pertaining to the church.

            Among other sayings, which may seem prophetically to be spoken of him, this is to be marked, that he spoke in prison to a printer, who was then confined for the cause of religion, "You (said he,) shall live to see the alteration of this religion, and the gospel to be freely preached again; and therefore have me commended to my brethren, as well in exile as others, and bid them be circumspect in displacing the papists, and put good ministers into churches, or else their end will be worse than ours." And for lack of good ministers to furnish churches, his advice was, (Mr. Hooper also agreeing to the same,) that for every ten churches, some one good and learned super­intendant should be appointed, which should have under him faithful readers, such as might well be got, so that popish priests should be clean put out, and the bishop once a year, should oversee the profiting of the parishes; and if the minister did not his duty, as well in profiting himself in his book, and his parishioners in good instruc­tions, so that they might be trained by little and little to give a reckoning how they profited, then he should be expelled, and another put in his place: and the bishop should do the like with the superintendant.

During the time he remained in Newgate, he was bene­ficial and liberal to the prisoners; for whom he devised that he, with his fellows, should have but one meal a day; they paying, notwithstanding, for the other meals to be given to them that lacked on the other side of the prison - but Alexander, their keeper, would in no case suffer that. The Sunday before he suffered, he cheerfully bade some that were present commend him to Mr. Hooper, being then underneath him, and tell him, "There was never little fellow would stick better to a man than he would stick to him;" supposing they should both be burnt together; but Mr. Rogers was burnt alone.

            The 4th of February, being Monday, in the morning, he, was suddenly warned by the keeper's wife of Newgate, to prepare himself for the fire: who being then sound asleep, could scarce be awaked with much shaking. At length, being raised, she bid him make haste; "Then (said he,) if it be so, I need not tie my points." And so he was had down, first to Bonner to be degraded, and put into the hands of the laity. That done, he craved of Bonner but one petition: and Bonner asking what that should be, " Nothing, (said he,) but that I may talk a few words with my wife before my burning." But that

could not be obtained. Then said he, "You declare what your charity is." When the time of his execution came, he was brought into Smithfield by Mr. Chester and Mr. Woodroofe, sheriffs of LONDON. Mr. Woodroofe asked him, If he would recant his abominable doctrine, and his evil opinion of the sacrament of the altar. Mr. Rogers answered, "That which I have preached I will seal with my blood." "Then (said Mr. Woodroofe,) you art an heretic." "That shall be known (said Rogers,) at the day of judgment." "Well, (said Mr. Woodroofe,) I will never pray for thee." "But I will pray for you," said Mr. Rogers; and so he was brought to the stake, (all the people wonderfully rejoicing at his constancy, with great praises and thanks to God;) and there, in the presence of Mr. Rochester, comptroller of the queen's household, sir Richard Southwell, both the sheriffs, and a wonderful number of people, he was burned to ashes, washing his hands in the flame as he was burning.

            At the stake he showed most constant patience, not using many words, for he could not be permitted; but only exhorting the people constantly to remain in that faith and true doctrine which he had taught, and for the confirmation whereof he was not only content patiently to suffer all such cruelty as had been spewed him, but also most gladly to resign up his life, and to give his flesh to the consuming fire. His pardon was brought if he would recant, but he utterly refused it. He was the first martyr of all the blessed company that suffered in queen Mary's time. His wife and children, being eleven in number, ten able to go, and one sucking on her breast, met him by the way as he went to execution. This sor­rowful sight could nothing move him, but he cheerfully took his death in the defense of CHRIST's gospel.

 

THE MARTYRDOM
OF

LAURENCE SANDERS.

            AFTER queen Mary, by public proclamation, had in­hibited the preaching of GOD’s Word; divers godly mi­nisters, who had the charge of souls committed to them, did, notwithstanding, according to their bounden duty, feed their flock faithfully; not as preachers authorized by public authority, but as the private pastors of particular flocks, among whom Laurence Sanders was one, a man of worshipful parentage. His bringing up was in learn­ing from his youth, in the school of Eaton, and at the King's-college, in Cambridge, where he continued scholar of the college three years, and there profited in know­ledge and learning very much: shortly after that, he went to his parents, upon whose advice he minded to become a merchant; and he, coming up to LONDON, was bound apprentice to sir William Chester. Yet the Lord so wrought inwardly in his heart, that he could find no liking in that vocation; but when his fellows were busily occu­pied about trade, he would secretly withdraw himself into some privy corner, and there fall into his solitary lamen­tations, as one not liking that kind of life.

            It happened that his master, being a good marl, and hearing his apprentice thus in his secret prayers' inwardly to mourn by himself, called him unto him to know what was the cause of his lamentation. Perceiving his mind nothing to fancy that kind of life, and his whole purpose to be bent to study and contemplation, he directed his letters to his friends, and giving him his indenture, set him free. And thus Laurence Sanders being ravished with the love of learning, and especially with the reading of GOD’s Word, tarried not long time in merchandise, but shortly returned to Cambridge to his study; where he began to join to the Latin the study of the Greek tongue, wherein- he profited in small time very much.  Thereto also he added the study of the Hebrew. Then he gave himself wholly to the study of the holy Scriptures, to furnish himself for the office of a preacher. In study, he was diligent and painful; in godly life, he declared the fruits of a well exercised conscience; he prayed often, and with great fervour: in his prayers, as also at other times, he had his part of spiritual exercises, which his hearty sighing to GOD declared; in which, when any spe­cial assault did come, by prayer he felt present relief. His company was marvelously comfortable: for as his ex­ercises were special teachings, so they proved singular consolations; wherein he became so expert, that within a short space he was able to comfort others which were in any affliction, by the consolation wherewith the Lord did comfort him. Thus continued he in the university, till he became master of arts, and a long space after.

            In the beginning of King Edward's reign he began to preach; and was so well liked of them which had au­thority, that they appointed him to read a divinity lecture in the college at Fotheringay, where, by doctrine and life, he edified the godly, drew many to GOD’s true know­ledge, and stopped the mouths of the adversaries. He married about that time; and in the married estate led a life unblamable before all men. The college of Fother­ingay being dissolved, he was placed to be lecturer in the minster at Litchfield; where he so behaved himself in teaching and living. that the very adversaries gave him a good report, as well of learning as of much godli­ness. After a certain space, he departed from Litchfield, to a benefice in Leicestershire, called Church Langton, where he taught diligently. From thence he was called to a benefice in LONDON, named Allhallow's, Bread Street. And even at that time began the broil about the claim that queen Mary had to the crown. In this trouble he preached at Northampton, nothing meddling with the state, but boldly uttered his conscience against popish errors, which were like to spring up again in England, as a just plague for the little love which the English nation did bear to the blessed word of GOD, which had been so plentifully offered unto them. The queen's men which were there, were highly displeased, and kept him among them as prisoner. But partly for love of his brethren and friends, which were chief doers for the queen among them; partly because there was no law broken by his preaching, they dismissed him. He, seeing the dreadful days at hand, inflamed with godly zeal, preached with diligence at both those benefices, as time would serve him, seeing he could resign neither of them now, but into the hand of a papist.

            Thus passed he to and fro, preaching, until the pro­clamation before-mentioned was put forth. At which time he was at his benefice in the country, where he (notwithstanding the proclamation,) taught diligently GOD’s truth, confirming the people therein, and arming them against false doctrine, until he was not only commanded to cease, but also with force resisted, so that he could not proceed there in preaching. Some of his friends ad­vised him to flee out of the realm, which he refused to do. But seeing he was kept from doing good in that place, he returned to LONDON, to visit the flock there.  On Saturday, October 14, as he was coming nigh LONDON, sir John Mordant, a counselor to queen Mary, overtook him, and asked him whither he went. " I have (said Sanders,) a cure in LONDON, and now I go to instruct my people according to my duty." "If you will follow my counsel, (quoth Mordant,) let them alone, and go not to them." To this Sanders answered, " How shall I then be discharged before GOD, if any be sick and desire consolation; if any want good counsel, and need instruction; or if any should slip into error, and receive false doctrine?" "Did you not (quoth Mordant,) preach such a day (and named the day,) in Bread Street, in LONDON P" " Yes, verily, (says Sanders,) that is my cure." " I heard you myself, (says Mr. Mordant,) and will you preach there again?" "If it please you, (said Sanders,) to-morrow you may hear me again at the same place, where I will confirm, by the authority of GOD’s word, all that I said then, and whatsoever before that time I taught them." "I would counsel you (quoth the other,) not to preach." " If you can forbid me by lawful authority, then I must obey," said Sanders. " Nay, (quoth he,) I will not forbid you, but I give you counsel. And thus entered they both the city, and departed from each other. Mr. Mordant went to give warning to Bonner, that Sanders would preach at his cure the next day. Sanders resorted to his lodging, where, because he seemed to be somewhat troubled, one which was there asked him how he did. " In very deed, (says he,) I am in prison, till I be in prison;" meaning, that his mind was unquiet until he had preached, and then he should have quietness of mind, though he were put in prison.

            The next day, which was Sunday, in the forenoon he preached in his parish-church, treating on that place of St. Paul to the Corinthians, "I have coupled you to one man, that ye should be a chaste virgin unto CHRIST. But I fear, lest as the serpent beguiled Eve, even so you should be corrupted from the simplicity which ye had in CHRIST." He recited the sum of that true Christian doc­trine, through which they were coupled to CHRIST, to receive of him free justification through faith in his blood. The papistical doctrine he compared to the ser­pent's deceiving; and lest they should be deceived by it, he made a comparison between the voice of GOD, and the voice of the serpent. In the afternoon, he was ready in his church to have given another exhortation to his people. But the bishop of LONDON interrupted him, by sending an officer. This officer charged him forthwith to come to the bishop his master. Thus, as the apostles were brought out of the temple, where they were teach­ing, unto the rulers of the priests; so was Laurence San­ders brought unto the bishop, who had in his company the aforenamed sir John Mordant, and some of his chaplains. The bishop laid to his charge, treason, for breaking the queen's proclamation; heresy and sedition for his sermon. After much talk, the bishop willed him to write what he believed of transubstantiation. L. Sanders did so, saying, "My lord, ye seek my blood, and ye shall have it: I pray GOD that ye may be so baptized in it, that ye may after­ward lothe blood-sucking, and become another man." The bishop then sent him to the lord chancellor. But the chancellor being not at home, Sanders was con­strained to tarry for him four hours, in the outer chamber, where he found a chaplain of the bishop's, with certain gentlemen playing at tables, with divers others of the same family occupied in, the same exercise.

            All this time, Sanders stood modestly at the skreen, bare-headed, sir John Mordant, his guide, walking up and down by him. At last, the bishop returned from court; whom, as soon as he entered, a great many suitors met and received: so that before he could get out of one house into another, half an hour was passed. At last he came into the chamber where Sanders was, and went through into another chamber; where sir John

gave him a writing, containing the accusation of the said Sanders: which when he had perused, "Where is the man," said the bishop? Then Sanders, being brought forth, first lowly and meekly kneeled down before the table where the bishop sat: unto whom the bishop spoke on this wise, " How happeneth it, that, notwith­standing the queen's proclamation, you have enterprised to preach?" Sanders said, "That forasmuch as he saw perilous times at hand, he did but (according as he was admonished by Ezekiel the prophet,) exhort his flock to persevere and stand steadfastly in the doctrine which they had learned; saying also, that he was moved thereto by the place of the, apostle, wherein he was commanded rather to obey GOD than man; and that nothing more stirred him thereunto, than his own conscience.: "A goodly conscience," said the bishop. " This your con­science would make our queen a bastard. Would it not, I pray you?" Then said Sanders, "For that let them take care, whose writings are yet in the hands of men, witnessing the same, not without the shame of the au­thor." [The bishop himself had before written and set forth in print a book, wherein he had openly declared queen Mary to be a bastard.] The bishop being touched, said, " Carry away this frenzy fool to prison." Unto whom Mr. Sanders answered, "He did give GOD thanks, who had given him at last a place of rest and quietness, where he might pray for the bishop's conversion." He that did he with him afterwards in prison, reported that he heard him say, That in the time of his examination he was wonderfully comforted, insomuch, as not only in spirit, but also in body, he received a certain taste of the holy communion of saints.

            Mr. Sanders continued in the Marshalsea-prison a whole year and three months. From whence he wrote to his wife as follows: " Grace, mercy, and peace in CHRIST our Lord. Entirely, beloved wife, even as unto my own soul and body, so do I daily in my prayers wish unto you; for I daily, twice at the least, in this sort remember you. And I doubt not but that both I and you, as we be written in the book of life, so we shall together enjoy the same everlastingly, through the grace and mercy of GOD, our dear Father, in his Son, our CHRIST. And for this present life, let us wholly appoint ourselves to the will of our good GOD, to glorify him either by life or death; and that same merciful Lord make us worthy to honor him either way, as pleases him. Amen. I am merry, I thank my GOD and my CHRIST, in whom, and through whom, I shall, (I know,) be able to fight a good fight, and finish my course, and then receive the crown which is laid up in store for me, and all the true soldiers of CHRIST. Wherefore, wife, let us, in the name of our GOD, fight lustily against the flesh, the devil, and the world. What our harness and weapons be in this fight, look in the sixth chapter unto the Ephe­sians; and pray, pray, pray. I would that you make no suit for me in any wise. GOD send us all good speed, and a joyful meeting. I have too few friends to further me in this journey, which is indeed the greatest friend­ship. The blessing of GOD be with you all. Amen.

A prisoner in the Lord,

" L. SANDERS."

Afterward he wrote to her thus,

            " Grace and comfort in CHRIST JESUS, our only comfort in all extreme assaults. Amen! Fain would this flesh make strange of that which the Spirit does embrace: ah, Lord, how does is this loitering sluggard to pass forth in GOD’s path: and were it not for the force of faith, which pulleth it forward by the rein of GOD’s most sweet promise, and of hope, which pricketh on behind, great dangers there were of fainting by the way. But blessed, everlastingly blessed, be that Heavenly Father of ours, who, in his CHRIST, our sufficient Savior, has vouch­safed to shine in our hearts, that he gives us the light of the knowledge of the glory of GOD in the face of JESUS CHRIST. Wherefore, by the grace of our CHRIST, we shall not be wearied, neither be dismayed by this our pro­bation through the fire of affliction, as though some strange thing had happened unto us. But by his power we shall rejoice, inasmuch as we are partakers of CHRIST's passion, that when he does appear we may be merry and glad; knowing that `our tribulation, which is momentary and light, prepareth an exceeding and an eternal weight of glory unto us, while we look not on the things which are seen, but on the things which are not seen.            

            They that sow in tears, shall reap in joy. For he that goes on his way weeping, and scattering his good seed, shall doubtless come again with joy, and bring his whole sheaves with him.' Then, then shall the Lord wipe away all tears from our eyes. Then, then shall be brought to pass that saying that is written,’ Death is swallowed up in victory. Death, where is thy sting? Bell, where is thy victory? Yea, thanks be to GOD, who has given us victory, through our Lord JESUS CHRIST. Amen.'

            " He biddeth us cast our care on him, and says, That assuredly he cares for us. And what though for a season he does suffer us to be turmoiled in the trouble­ some tempests of temptation, and seems to have for­ gotten us? Let not us for that leave off to put our trust in him, but let us, with godly Job, conclude in our­selves, and say,’ Even. though he kill me, yet will I put my trust in him. Let us? with blessed Abraham, in hope, even contrary to hope, lean upon that our loving Lord, who though for our probation he suffereth us to be afflicted, yet’ will he not be always chiding, neither keeps he his anger forever: for he knows whereof we be made: he remembers that we are but dust.' Wherefore,’ Look how high the heaven is in comparison of the earth, so great is his mercy towards them which fear him. Look how wide the east is from the west, so far has he set our sins from us. Yea, like as a father pitieth his own children, even so is the Lord merciful unto them that fear him.' Oh! What great cause of rejoicing have we in our most gracious God! We cannot but burst forth into praise of such a bountiful Benefactor,

and say with the same Psalmist,’ Praise the Lord, O my soul, and all that is within me praise his holy name. Praise the Lord, O my soul, and forget not all his benefits.'

            " Dear wife, riches I have none to leave, wherewith to endow you after the worldly manner: but that treasure of tasting how sweet CHRIST is, (whereof, I thank my CHRIST, I do feel part, and would feel more,) that I be­queath unto you, and to the rest of my beloved in CHRIST, to retain the same in heart always. Pray, pray. I am merry, and I trust I shall be merry, maugre the teeth of all the devils in hell. I utterly renounce myself, and resign myself unto my CHRIST, in whom I know I shall be strong, as he sees needful. Pray, pray, pray.

" LAURENCE SANDERS."

            While he was in prison, strict charge was given to the keeper that no person should speak with him. His wife yet came to the prison gate, with her young child in her arms, to visit her husband. The keeper, though he durst not suffer her to come in, yet did he take the little babe out of her arms, and brought him to his father Mr. Sanders seeing him, greatly rejoiced, saying, That he rejoiced more to have such a child, than he should if 2OOO pounds were given him. And unto the standers by, who praised the’ comeliness of the child, he said, "What man, fearing GOD, would not lose this life, rather than by prolonging it, he should adjudge this boy to be a bastard, his wife a whore, and himself a whoremonger? Yea, if there were no other cause, for which a man of my estate should lose his life."

            At length the bishops called him, as they did the rest of his fellows, openly to be examined. Of the which examination, written by himself, the purport follows " Praised be our gracious GOD, who preserveth his from evil, and gives them grace to avoid all such offences as might hinder his honor, or hurt his church. Amen!" Being convened before the queen's most honorable council, sundry bishops being present, the lord chan­cellor began to speak as follows: " You have been a prisoner for abominable heresies and false doctrine: yet, it is thought good that mercy should be showed to such as seek for it. Wherefore, if you will show yourself conform­able, mercy is ready. Give us forthwith a direct answer." Sanders replied, " My lords, may it please your honors to give me leave to answer with deliberation?" " Leave off your painting and pride of speech," says the chancellor, " such is the fashion of you all. Answer, yea, or nay." " My lord," says Sanders, " it is no time for me-to paint. And as for my pride, there is no great cause why it should be in me. My learning I confess to be but small; and as for riches, I have none at all. Not­withstanding, it behooves me to answer circumspectly, considering one of these extreme perils are like to fall upon me: the losing a good conscience, or the losing life. And I tell you the truth, I love both life and liberty, if I could enjoy them without hurt to my con­science." " Conscience!" quoth the chancellor, " you have none at all, but pride and arrogant your­selves from the church. "by, dividing your­ the knower of all men's consciences replied "The whereas your is

Lord, LORDSHIP layeth to my charge this dividing myself our the church, I assure you, I live in the faith wherefrom in I have been brought up since I was 14 years old: being taught that the power of the bishop of Rome is but usurped, with many other abuses springing thereof. Yea, this I have received at your hands, that are here present, as a thing agreed upon by the catholic church, and public authority." "Yea, marry, but have you received at our hands, your heresies of the blessed sacrament of the altar?" says the chancellor. "My lord, answered he, "it is less offence to cut off an arm of a man, than to cut off the head. For the man may live though he lack an arm, and so he cannot without his head. But you, all of you, agreed to cut off the supremacy of the bishop of Rome, whom now you will have to be the head of the church again."

            Then spoke the bishop of LONDON, "If it like your LORDSHIP, I have his hand against the blessed sacrament. How say you to that?" Sanders replied, `• What I have written, that I have written. Nothing have you to burden me withal for breaking your laws since they were in force." The chancellor subjoined, " Well, you are ob­stinate, and refuse liberty." " My lord, I may not buy liberty at such a price," says Sanders. " But I beseech your honors, to be means to the queen's majesty for such a pardon for us, that we may live and keep our consciences unclogged, and we shall live as most obedient subjects. Otherwise, I must say for myself, that by GOD’s grace, I will abide the extremity that man can do against me, rather than act against my conscience."

            Ah, sirrah," cries the chancellor, "you will live as you list. You are nbt meet to live on earth: and that you shall know within these seven days; therefore, away with him." " Welcome be it," quoth Sanders, " whatsoever the will of GOD shall be, either life or death. And I tell you truly, I have learned to die. But I exhort you to beware of shedding innocent blood. Truly it will cry. The Spirit of GOD rest upon all your honors. Amen!"

            This examination being ended, the officers led him out of the place, and so stayed till the rest of his fellows were examined, that they might have them all together to prison. Laurence Sanders, standing among the officers, seeing there a great multitude of people, opened his mouth, and spoke freely, warning them all of falling from CHRIST to antiCHRIST; and exhorting them by repentance to rise again, and to embrace CHRIST with stronger faith; to confess him to the end, in the defiance of antiCHRIST, sin, death, and the devil. After he was excommunicated, and delivered to the secular power, he was brought by the sheriff of LONDON to the compter, in his own parish whereat he greatly rejoiced, both because he found there a fellow-prisoner, with whom he had comfortable con­ference; and also, because out of prison, as before out of a pulpit, he might preach to his parishioners.

            The 4th day of February, the bishop of LONDON came to the prison where he was to degrade him: which when he had done, Mr. Sanders said to him, `.` I thank GOD, I am not of your church." The' day following, in the morning, the sheriff of LONDON delis eyed him to certain of the queen's guard, who were appointed to carry him to the city of Coventry,. there to be burned. The first night they came to St. Alban's, where Mr. who had more gifts than constancy, Grimoald, old, with him if he would pledge him of that up hand, and asked "Of that cup which is in your hand p will led le said but of that other, which you mean, I will not promise.

            "Well," said Mr. Sanders, "my dear Lord JESUS has begun to me a more, bitter cup than mine shall be; and shall "I not pledge my most sweet Savior. Yes, I After they were come to Coventry, the same night a poor shoemaker, who used to serve him with shoes, came to him, and said, " O, my good master, GOD strengthen YOU!" "Gramercies, good shoemaker," quoth Sanders, "and I pray thee to pray for me; for I am the unmeetest man for this high office, that ever was appointed to it but my gracious GOD and dear Faker, is able to make me strong enough." That night he was put into the common goal among other prisoners, where he slept little, spending the night in prayer, and instructing of others.

            The next day, the 8th of February, he was led to the place of execution in the park without the city, going in an old gown and a shirt, barefooted, and often' times he fell flat on the ground and prayed. When he was come near to the place, the officer, appointed to see the execu­tion done, said to Mr. Sanders, "You art one of them which mar the queen's realm with false doctrine, where­fore you halt deserved death; but yet, if you wilt re­voke thine heresies, the queen has pardoned thee: if not, yonder fire is prepared for thee." To whom Mr. Sanders answered,’" It is not I, nor my fellow-preachers of GOD’s truth, that have hurt the queen's realm, but it is yourself, and such as you are, which have always re­sisted GOD’s holy word; it is you which have and do mar the queen's realm. I do hold no heresies; but the doc­trine of GOD, the blessed gospel of CHRIST, that hold I, that believe 1, that have I taught, and that will I never revoke." With that he cried, " Away with him." And away from him went Mr. Sanders, with a merry courage, towards the fire. He fell to the ground and prayed: he rose up again, and took the stake in his arms, and kissed it, saying, " Welcome the cross of CHRIST, welcome ever­lasting life:" and being fastened to the stake, and fire put to him, he slept full sweetly in the Lord.

            At the beginning of queen Mary's reign, Dr. Pendleton and Mr. Sanders, men known to the world, not only to be learned, but also earnest preachers of GOD’s word, met together in the country, where they fell to debate what was best to be done in so dangerous a season. Mr. Sanders seemed so fearful and feeble-spirited, that he showed himself in appearance, likely either to fall quite from GOD and his word, which he had taught, or at least to flee the land. Dr. Pendleton took upon him to comfort Mr. Sanders, admonishing him not to forsake his flock when he had most need to defend them; neither to start aside now, having put his hand to GOD’s plough. After which persuasions, " What, man! (added the doctor,) there is a great deal more cause in me to be afraid than you; forasmuch as you see I carry a greater mass of flesh upon my back than you do: yet I will see the uttermost drop of this grease molten away, and the last gobbet of this flesh consumed to ashes, before I will forsake GOD and his truth." Whereunto the other an­swering but little, and wishing that Almighty GOD would give him more strength, consented notwithstanding, though it were faintly, to join with him in the profession of the gospel, and so to go tip to LONDON, and preach the same. Whereupon they gave each other their hands.

            When they were come to LONDON, the poor, feeble, faint-hearted Sanders, by the goodness of Almighty GOD, boldly and stoutly confirmed his flock: on the other side, Dr. Pendleton changed his voice, preaching, instead of sound doctrine, nothing but errors and lies; advancing antiCHRIST, and overthrowing CHRIST with all his might, to

the great offence of his brethren, the hurt of his flock, and the utter undoing of his own soul. Wherefore let him that stands take heed he fall not: and let us pray continually to Almighty GOD, though we have faith, that he will help and increase our faith, that in him it may be made strong.

THE MARTYRDOM

OF

MR. JOHN HOOPER,

BISHOP OF GLOUCESTER.

            JOHN HOOPER, student and graduate in the Uni­versity of Oxford, after the study of the sciences, wherein he had abundantly profited, through GOD’s secret voca­tion was stirred with fervent desire to the love and knowledge of the Scriptures. In the searching whereof, as there lacked, in him no diligence joined with earnest prayer; so neither was wanting unto him the grace of the Holy Ghost to open unto him the light of true divinity.

            Mr. Hooper, growing more and more, by GOD’s grace, in ripeness of spiritual understanding, and showing withal a fervent spirit, about the beginning of the six articles, in the time of King Henry VIII. fell into the displeasure of certain rabbins in Oxford, who by and by began to stir coals against him, whereby he was compelled to leave the University; and so removing from thence, he was retained in the house of sir Thomas Arundel, as his steward, till sir Thomas having intelligence of his opinions, which he in no case favored, though he exceedingly favored the person and conditions of the man, found means to send him in a message to the bishop of Winchester, writing privily to the bishop by conference, to do some good upon him, but in any case to send home his servant again. Winchester, after long conference with Mr. Hooper, four or five days together, when he at length perceived that he could not do that which he thought to him, according to Mr. Arundel's request, sent home his servant, commending his learning and wit, but yet bear­ing in his breast a grudge against him.

            Not long after, intelligence was given to Mr. Hooper to provide for himself, for danger was working against him. Whereupon, leaving Mr. Arundel's house, he took his journey to the sea-side, and went to France. Being at Paris, he tarried there not long, but in a short time re­turned into England, and was retained of Mr. Sentlow, till he was again molested: whereby he was compelled to take to the seas again, and so he escaped, (although not without extreme peril of drowning,) through France to the higher parts of Germany. Where, entering into an acquaintance with the learned men, he was of them lov­ingly entertained, both at Basil, and especially at Zurich, of Mr. Bullinger, being his singular friend. Here he married his wife, who was a Burgundian, and applied very studiously to the Hebrew tongue. At length, when GOD saw good, Mr. Hooper, seeing such a time and oc­casion, offered to help forward the Lord's work, to the uttermost of his ability. And so coming to Mr. Bul­linger, and others of his acquaintance in Zurich, to give them thanks for their kindness and humanity towards him, he took his leave, assuring them, " You shall hear from me, and I will write to you from time to time how it goes with me. But the last news of all I shall not be able to write; for, (said he, taking Mr. Bullinger by the hand,) where I shall take most pains, there shall you hear that I am burned to ashes."

            When he had taken his farewell of Mr. Bullinger, and his friends in Zurich, he came into England in the reign of King Edward 6. where, coming to LONDON, he used continually to preach, most times twice, at least once every day. In his sermons he sharply inveighed against the iniquity of the world, and corrupt abuses of the church. The people in great companies daily came to hear him; insomuch, that often when he was preach­ing, the church would be so full that none could enter further than the doors thereof. In his doctrine he was earnest, in speech eloquent, in the Scriptures perfect, in pains indefatigable. Besides his other gifts, this is extra­ordinary, that even as he began, so he continued unto his life's end. For neither could his labor and diligence break him, neither promotion change him, neither dainty fare corrupt him. His life was so pure and good, that no kind of slander, (although divers were propagated,) could fasten any fault upon him. He was of body strong, his health whole and sound, his wit very pregnant, his invincible patience able to sustain whatsoever adversity could do. He was constant of judgment, a good justice, spare of diet, more spare of words, and sparest of time. In house-keeping very liberal, and sometimes more free than his living would allow. Briefly, of all those virtues and qualities required of St. Paul in a good bishop, in his epistle to Timothy, I know not one lacking in him. He bare in countenance and talk always, a certain severe arid grave grace, which might peradventure have been wished sometimes to have been a little more popular; but he himself best knew what he had to do. After he had thus practiced this popular and common kind of preaching, at length, he was called to preach before the king, and soon after made bishop of Gloucester. In that office he con­tinued two years, and behaved himself so well, that his very enemies, (except it were for his good doings, and sharp correction of sin,) could find no fault with him.

            But I cannot tell what unlucky contention concerning the apparel of bishops, began to disturb the good be­ginning of the godly bishop. This he could in no wise be persuaded to wear. For this cause he made suppli­cation to the king's majesty, most humbly desiring his highness, either to discharge him of his bishopric, or else to dispense with him for such ceremonial orders. Whose petition the king immediately granted. Nevertheless the. bishops contended, that the fault was in the abuse, and not in the use of the things, and that his stubbornness in refusing the habit was intolerable. But the contend­ing parties, afterwards being in prison for the truth's sake, reconciled themselves with most godly agreement, as appears by the following letter from bishop Ridley to the bishop of Gloucester.

To any dear Brother, and reverend Fellow-elder in CHRIST, John Hooper, grace and peace.

            " My dearly beloved brother, and fellow-elder, whom I reverence in the Lord, pardon me, I beseech you, that hitherto, since your captivity and mine, I have not saluted you by my letters: I confess, I have received from you (such was your gentleness,) two letters at sundry times; but yet at such time as I could not be suffered to write to you again; or if I might, I was in doubt how my letters might safely come into your hands. But now, my dear brother, forasmuch as I understand by your works, that we thoroughly agree in those things, which are the substantial points of our religion, against which the world so furiously rageth, howsoever in time past, by certain circumstances of religion, your wisdom, and my simplicity have a little jarred, each of us following the abundance of his own sense and judgment; now, I say, be you assured, that even with my whole heart, GOD is my witness, in the bowels of CHRIST, I love you in the truth, and for the truth's sake which abides in us, and, as I am persuaded, shall, by the grace of GOD, abide in us for evermore. And because the world busily conspireth against CHRIST our Savior, with all possible force and power, (exalting high things against the knowledge of GOD,) let us join hands together in CHRIST, and, if we cannot overthrow, yet to our power, and as much as in us lies, let us shake these strong holds, not with carnal, but with spiritual weapons: and withal, brother, let us prepare ourselves for the day of our dissolution, by the which, after the short time-of this bodily affliction, by the grace of our Lord JESUS CHRIST, we shall triumph to­gether with him in eternal glory.

            "I pray you, brother, salute in my name, your reve­rend fellow-prisoner, and venerable father, D. C. by whom, since the first clay that I heard of his most godly constancy, in confessing the truth of the gospel, I have conceived great consolation and joy in the Lord: For the integrity and uprightness of that man, his gravity and innocency, all England, I think, has known long ago. Blessed be GOD, therefore, which in such abundance of iniquity and decay of all godliness, has given unto us, in his reverend old age, such a witness for the truth of his gospel. Miserable and hard-hearted is he, whom the constant confession of so worthy, so grave and innocent a man, will not move to acknowledge the truth of God. It shall be to me great joy to hear of your constancy and fortitude in the Lord's quarrel. And albeit I have not hitherto written unto you, yet have I twice, as I could, sent unto you my mind, touching the matter which in your letters you have required to know. Neither can I yet, brother, be otherwise persuaded: I see methinks so many perils, whereby I am earnestly moved to counsel you not to hasten the publishing of your works, for I fear greatly, lest by this occasion, both your mouth should be stopped hereafter, and all things taken away from the rest of the prisoners, whereby, (otherwise,) if it should so please GOD, they might be able to do good to many, Farewell in the Lord, my most dear brother, and if there be any more in' prison with you for CHRIST's sake, I beseech you, salute them in my name. To whose prayers I do most humbly and heartily commend myself and my fellow-prisoners in the Lord; and yet once again, and for ever in CHRIST, my most dear brother, farewell.

            Mr. Hooper, after all these tumults, at length entering into his diocese, did there employ his time, which the Lord lent him under King Edward's reign, with such diligence, as may be a spectacle to all bishops, which shall ever hereafter succeed him; so careful was he in his cure, that he left neither pains untaken, nor ways un­sought, how to train up the flock of CHRIST in the true word of salvation, continually laboring in the same. He abhorred nothing more than gain, laboring always to save and preserve the souls of his flock, and so ruling his diocese, as though he had in charge but one family. No father in his household, no gardener in his garden, nor husbandman in his vineyard, was more occupied, than he in his diocese, among his flock, going about his towns and villages in teaching and preaching to the people there. The time that he had to spare from preaching, he bestowed either in hearing public causes, or else in private study, prayer, and visiting of schools with his continual doctrine he adjoined due and discreet correction, not so severe to any, as to them who, for abundance of riches, thought they might do what they listed. He spared no kind of people, but was indifferent to all men, as well rich as poor. How virtuous and good a bishop he was, may be conceived evidently by this, that even as he was hated of none but of them which were evil, so the worst of them all could not reprove his life in any one point.

            There appeared in him at home, no less example of a worthy prelate's life. For though he bestowed the most part of his care upon the congregation of CHRIST, for which also he spent his blood: yet there lacked no pro­vision to bring tip his own children in learning and good manners; insomuch that it could not be discerned whether he deserved more praise for his fatherly usage at home, or for his bishop-like doings abroad. For every where he kept one religion, in one uniform doctrine and in­tegrity. So that, if you entered into the bishop's palace, you would suppose yourself to have entered into some church or temple. In every corner thereof there was some smell of virtue, good example, honest conversation, and reading of the holy Scriptures. There was not to be seen in his house any courtly rioting or idleness; no pomp at all, no dishonest or idle word could be heard there. As for the revenues of his bishopric, he pursed nothing, but bestowed it in hospitality, Twice I was at his house, where, in his common hall, I saw a table spread with good store of meat, and beset full of poor folk: and I, asking his servants what this meant, they told me, that every day their master's manner was, to have to dinner a certain number of poor folk of the said city by course, who were served by four at a mess, and when they were served, (being before examined by him or his deputies, of the Lord's prayer, the articles of their faith, and ten commandments,) then he himself sat down to dinner, and not before. After this manner, Mr. Hooper executed his office of a pastor, by the space of two years or more: and would GOD, that all other bishops would use the like diligence, care and observance in their function. After this, queen Mary being crowned, this good bishop was one of the first that was sent for to LONDON. He was not ignorant of the evils that would happen, (for he was admonished by his friends to get away,) yet he would not, but said, " Once I did flee, but now, because I am' called to this place, I am thoroughly persuaded to tarry, and to live and die with my sheep."

            When, at the day of his appearance, which was the 1st of September, he was come to LONDON, before he could come to Bonner, he was intercepted, and com­manded violently against his will to appear before the queen and her council, and by them he was commanded toward. The next year, March 19, 1554, he was called again to appear before Winchester, and other the queen's commissioners: where, what for the bishop, and what for the unruly multitude, when he could not be permitted to plead his cause, he was deprived of his bishopric.

            M. Hooper's Entertainment in the Fleet, written with his own hand, the 7th of January, 1554.

            The 1st of September, 1553, I was committed to the Fleet from Richmond, to have the liberty of the prison; and within six days after I paid for my liberty five pounds sterling to the warden: who, immediately upon the payment thereof, complained unto Stephen Gar­diner, bishop of Winchester; and so I was committed to close prison one quarter of a year in the tower-chamber of the Fleet, and used very extremely. Then, by the means of a good gentlewoman, I had liberty to come down to dinner and supper, not suffered to speak to any of my friends; but as soon as dinner and supper were finished, to repair to my chamber again. Notwithstand­ing, whilst I came down thus to dinner and supper, the warden and his wife picked quarrels with me, and com­plained untruly of me to their great friend the bishop of Winchester.

            " After a quarter of a year, Babington, the warden, and his wife, quarreled with me for the mass; and thereupon the warden resorted to the bishop of Win­chester, and obtained an order to put me into the wards, where I have continued a long time, having nothing ap­pointed me for my bed but a little pad of straw, and a rotten covering, the chamber being vile and stinking; on one side of which is the sink and filth of the house, and on' the other side the town ditch, so that the stench of the house has infected me with sundry diseases. During which time I was sick; and the doors, bars, hasps, and chains being all closed and made fast upon me, I have mourned, called, and cried for help: but the warden, when he has known me many times ready to die, and when the poor men of the wards have called to help me, has commanded the doors to be kept fast, and charged that none of his men should come to me, saying, " Let him alone, it were a good riddance of hiin." I paid always like a baron, to the said warden, as well in fees as for my board, which was 2O shillings a week, besides my man's table, until I was deprived of my bishopric, and since that time I have paid him as the best gentleman does in his house; yet has he used me worse, and more vilely than the veriest slave that ever came to the Hall Com­mons. The said warden has also imprisoned my man, William Downton, and stripped him of his clothes to search for letters, and, although he found none, but only - a little remembrance of good people's names that gave me their alms to relieve me in prison; and to undo them also, the warden delivered the same bill unto Stephen Gardiner, GOD’s enemy and mine. I have suffered im­prisonment almost I8 months; my goods, living, friends, and comfort being taken from me. The queen owing me, by just account, 8O pounds or upwards, has put me in prison, and gives nothing to support me; neither is there any one suffered to come to me, whereby I might have relief. I am with a wicked man and woman, so that I see no remedy, (saving GOD’s help,) but I shall be cast away in prison before I come to judgment. But I commit my just cause to GOD, whose will be done, whether it be by life or death."

            The 22d of January following, 1555, Babington, the warden of the Fleet, was commanded to bring Mr. Hooper before the bishop of Winchester, with other bishops and commissioners, at Winchester-House, in St. Mary Overy's. The bishop of Winchester, in the name of himself and the rest, moved Mr. Hooper to return to the unity of the catholic church, and to acknowledge the pope to be head of the church; saying, Mercy was ready to be shown to him, if he would submit to the pope's holiness. Mr. Hooper answered, That forasmuch as the pope taught doctrine altogether contrary to the doctrine of CHRIST, he was not worthy to be accounted a member of CHRIST's church, much less to be head thereof; where­fore, he would, in no wise, submit to any such usurped jurisdiction, neither esteemed he the church, whereof they called him head, to be the catholic church of CHRIST. Howbeit, (says he,) if in any point, to me unknown, I have offended the queen's majesty, I will most humbly submit myself to her mercy, if mercy may be had with safety of conscience. Answer was made, that the queen would show no mercy to the pope's enemies. Where­upon Babington was commanded to bring him to the Fleet again.

            The 28th of January, Winchester and other commis­sioners sat in judgment at St. Mary Overy's, where Hooper appeared before them again. After much rea­soning, he was commanded aside, till Mr. Rogers had been likewise examined. Examinations being ended, the two sheriffs of LONDON were commanded, about four o'clock, to carry them to the compter in Southwark, there to remain till the morrow at nine o'clock, to see whether they would come home to the catholic church. So Mr. Hooper went before with one of the sheriffs, and Mr. Rogers came after with the other; and being out of the church-door, Mr. Hooper looked back, and stayed a little, till Mr. Rogers drew near, unto whom he said, " Come, brother Rogers, must we two take this matter first in hand, and begin to fry these faggots i " " Yea, sir, (said Mr. Rogers,) by GOD’s grace." " Doubt not, (said Mr. Hooper,) but GOD will give strength." So going forwards, there was such a press of people in tile streets, which rejoiced at their constancy, that they had much trouble to pass. By the way, the sheriff said to Mr. Hooper, " 1 wonder that you were so hasty with my lord chancellor, and did use no more patience." He answered, " Mr. Sheriff, I was not at all impatient, although I was earnest in my Master's cause, and it stands me so in hand, for it goes upon life and death, not the life and death of this life only, but also of the world to come." Then they were committed to the keeper of the compter, and appointed to several cham­bers, with orders that they should not speak one with another, neither any be permitted to come to them.

            The day following, the 29th, at the hour appointed, they were brought again by the sheriffs before the com­missioners in the, church. After long talk, when they perceived Mr. Hooper would by no means submit to them, they condemned him to be degraded, and read unto him his condemnation. That done, Mr. Rogers was brought before them, and in like manner treated; and so they delivered both of them to the secular power, the two sheriffs of LONDON, who were willed to carry them to the Clink, a prison not far from the bishop of Win­chester's house, and there to remain till night. When it was dark, Mr. Hooper was led by one of the sheriffs, with many bills and weapons, first through the bishop of Winchester's house, and so over LONDON-Bridge, through the city, to Newgate. Some of the sergeants were or­dered to go before, and put out the candles of those, who used to sit with lights in the street; fearing that the people would have made some attempt to have taken him away from them by force. But notwithstanding this, the people having some knowledge of his coming, many of them came forth of their doors with lights, and saluted him, praising GOD for his constancy in the true doctrine which he had taught them, and desiring GOD to strengthen him in the same to the end.’ Mr. Hooper passed by, and required the people to make their earnest prayers to GOD for him; and so went through Cheapside to the place appointed, and was delivered close prisoner to the keeper of Newgate, where he remained six days, no body being permitted to come to him. Only Bonner of LONDON, and others at his appointment, as Fecknam, Chedsey, and Harpsfield, resorted divers times unto him, to try if by any means they could persuade him to be a member of their church. All the ways they could devise, they attempted. For, besides disputation, they used all out­ward gentleness and significations of friendship, with many great proffers of worldly advantages, not omitting most grievous threatenings, if with gentleness they could not prevail; but they found him always the same man, steadfast and immoveable. When they perceived that they could by no means reclaim him, then went they about by false reports of his recantation, to bring him, and the doctrine of CHRIST which he professed, out of credit with the people. He was not a little grieved that the people should give so light credit unto false rumors, as it may appear by a letter which he wrote upon that occasion, as follows " THE grace of our Lord JESUS CHRIST be with all them that unfeignedly look for the coming of our Savior CHRIST. Amen. Dear brethren and sisters in the Lord, and my fellow-prisoners for the cause of GOD’s gospel; I much rejoice and give thanks unto GOD for your con­stancy and perseverance in affliction, unto whom I wish continuance unto the end. Yet such is the report abroad, (as I am credibly informed,) that I John Hooper, a con­demned man for the cause of CHRIST, should now, after sentence of death, (being prisoner in Newgate, and looking daily for execution,) recant and abjure that which heretofore I have preached. And this talk arises of this, that the bishop of LONDON and his chaplains resort unto me. Doubtless, if our brethren were as godly as I could wish them, they would think, that in case I re­fused to talk with them, they might have just occasion to say, that I were unlearned, and durst not speak with learned men, or else proud, and disdained to speak with them. Therefore, to avoid such suspicion of both, I have, and do daily speak with them when they come, not doubting but that they report, that I am neither proud nor unlearned. And I would wish all men to do as I do in this point. For I fear not their arguments, neither is death terrible to me; praying you to make true report of the same, and that I am more confirmed in the truth, which I have preached heretofore, by their coming. Therefore ye that can send to the weak brethren, pray them that they trouble me not with such reports of re­cantations. For I have hitherto left all things, and suf­fered great pains and imprisonment, and I thank GOD I am as ready to suffer death as a mortal man can be. It were better for them to pray for us, than to credit or report such rumours. We have enemies enough of such as know not God: but the false report of weak brethren is a double cross. I wish you eternal salvation in JESUS CHRIST, and also require your continual prayers, that he which has begun in us, may continue it to the end. I have taught the truth with my tongue, and with my pen heretofore, and hereafter shall confirm it, by GOD’s grace, with my blood. Forth of Newgate, the 2d of February, 1554.

" Your brother in CHRIST,

" JOHN HOOPER."

            Upon Monday morning, the bishop of LONDON came to Newgate, and there degraded Mr. Hooper. After the degradation of bishop Hooper and Mr. Rogers, they were­ delivered to the sheriffs, Mr. Woodroofe, and sir William Chester; who, receiving first Mr. Rogers at the hands of the bishop, led him away with them to the place' of execution. The same day at night, bishop Hooper's keeper gave him notice, that he would be sent to Glou­cester to suffer death: whereat he greatly rejoiced, lifting up his eyes and hands unto heaven, and praised GOD that he saw it good to send him amongst the people, over whom he was pastor, there to confirm, with his death, the truth he had taught them; not doubting but the Lord would give him strength to perform the same to his glory. And immediately he sent to his servant's house for his hoots, spurs, and cloak, that he might be in readi­ness to ride when he should be called. The day follow­ing, about four in the morning, before day, the keeper, with others, cane to him and searched him, and the bed wherein he lay, to see if he had written any thing; and then he was led by the sheriffs of LONDON and their officers forth of Newgate, to a place appointed, not far from St. Dunstan's church, in Fleet Street, where six of the queen's guards were appointed to receive him, and to carry him to Gloucester, there to be delivered unto the sheriff, who, with the lord Shandois, Mr. Wicks, and other commissioners, were appointed to see execution done. The guard brought him to the Angel, where he brake his fast, eating more liberally than he had used to do a good while before. About break of day he took horse cheerfully; wearing a hood upon his head tinder his hat that he might not be known; and so he took his journey joyfully towards Gloucester; and always by the way, the guard learned of him where he was accustomed to bait or lodge, and ever carried him to another inn.

            On the Thursday following he came to a town in his diocese, called Cirencester, 15 miles from Gloucester, about eleven o'clock, and there dined at a woman's house which bad always hated the truth, and spoken all evil of Mr. Hooper. This woman being informed of the cause of his coming, showed him all the friendship she could, and lamented his case with tears; confessing, that before she had often reported, that if he were put to the trial he would not stand to his doctrine. After dinner he rode forwards, and came to Gloucester about five o'clock. A mile without the town abundance of people were as­sembled, who cried, and lamented his estate; insomuch that one of the guard rode post into the town, to require aid of the mayor and sherits, fearing lest he should have been taken from them. The officers and their retinue repaired to the gate with their weapons, and commanded the people to keep their houses; but there was no man that once gave the least signification of any rescue or violence. So was he lodged at one ingram's house in Gloucester, and that night, (as he had done all the way,) he eat his meat quietly, and slept his first sleep soundly, as it was reported by them of the guard. After his first sleep he continued in prayer until the morning; and then he desired that he might go into the next chamber, (for the guard were also in the chamber where he lay,) that there being alone, he might pray and talk with God. So that all the day, saving a little at meat, and when he talked at any time with such as the guard suffered to speak with him, he bestowed in prayer.

            Amongst those that spoke with him, sir Anthony King­ston was one. Who, seeming in time past his friend, was appointed by the queen's letters to be one of the commissioners, to see execution done upon him. Mr. Kingston being brought into the chamber, found him at prayers: and as soon as he saw Mr. Hooper he burst forth into tears. Mr. Hooper at first knew him not. Then said Mr. Kingston, " Why, my lord, do you not know an old friend, Anthony Kingston?" " Yes, Mr. Kingston, I now know you well, and am glad to see you in health, and do praise GOD for the same." " But I am sorry to see you in this case, (replied Kingston,) for, as I under­stand, you are come hither to die. But, alas, consider that life is sweet, and death is bitter. Therefore, seeing life may be had, desire to live; for life hereafter may do good." " Indeed it is true, Mr. Kingston, (said he,) I am come hither to end this life, because I will not gainsay the truth that I have taught amongst you: and I thank you for your friendly counsel, although it be not so friendly as I could have wished. True it is, that death is bitter, and life is sweet: but, alas, consider that the death to come is more bitter, and the life to come more sweet. Therefore, for the desire and love I have to the one, and the terror and fear of the other, I do not so much regard this death, nor esteem this life: but have settled myself, through the strength of GOD’s Holy Spirit, patiently to pass through the torments of the fire now prepared for me, rather than deny the truth of his word, desiring you and others, in the mean time, to commend me to GOD’s mercy in your prayers." " Well, my lord, (says King­ston,) then I perceive there is no remedy; and therefore I will take my leave: and I thank GOD that ever I knew you; for GOD did appoint you to call me, being a lost child: and by your good instructions, whereas before I was both an adulterer and a fornicator, GOD has brought me to the forsaking and detesting of the same." " If you have had the grace so to do, (says Mr. Hooper,) I praise GOD for it: and if you have not, I pray GOD you may; and that you may continually live in his fear." After some other words, the one took leave of the other. Mr. Kingston wept bitterly: the tears also trickled down Mr. Hooper's cheeks. At which departure, Mr. Hooper told him, that all the troubles he had sustained in prison, had not caused him to show so much sorrow.

            The same day, in the afternoon, a blind boy, after long intercession made to the guard, obtained license to be brought unto Mr. Hooper. The boy not long afore had. suffered imprisonment for confessing of the truth. Mr. Hooper, after he had examined him of his faith, and cause of his imprisonment, beheld him steadfastly, and (the water appearing in his eyes,) said unto him, " Ah, poor boy, GOD has taken from thee thy outward sight, for what reason he best knows: but he has given thee another sight much more precious; for he has endued thy soul with the eye of faith. GOD give thee grace, continually to pray unto him, that you lose not that sight."

            The same night he was committed by the guard, their commission being expired, to the sheriffs of Gloucester.  The name of the one was Jenkins, of the other Band, who, with the mayor and aldermen, repaired to Mr. Hooper's lodging; and at the first meeting saluted him, and took him by the hand. Unto whom Mr. Hooper spoke on this manner. " Mr. Mayor, I give most hearty thanks to you, and to the rest of your brethren, that you have vouchsafed to take me, a prisoner and a condemned man, by the hand; whereby, to my rejoicing, it is apparent that your old love and friendship is not altogether extin­guished: and I trust also, that all the things i have taught you in times past, are not utterly forgotten. For the which true doctrine, because I will not now account it falsehood and heresy, I am sent hither, (as you know,) by the queen's commandment, to (lie; and am come where I taught it, to confirm it with my blood. And now, Mr. Sheriffs,. I understand by these good men, (meaning the guard,) at whose hands I have found as much favor and gentleness by the way hitherward, as a prisoner could reasonably require, for the which also I most heartily thank them, that I am committed to your cus­tody, as unto them that must see me brought to-morrow to the place of execution. My request, therefore, to you shall be only, that there may be a quick fire, shortly to make an end; and in the mean time I will be as obedient unto you, as yourselves would wish. If you think I do amiss in any thing, hold up your finger, and I have done. For I am not come hither as one compelled to die: for it is well known, I might have had my life, with worldly gain; but as one willing to give my life for the truth; rather than to consent to the wicked religion of the bishop of Rome, received and set forth by the magis­trates in England, to GOD’s high displeasure and dis­honor; and I trust, by GOD’s grace, to-morrow to die a faithful servant of GOD, and a true obedient subject to the queen."

            Thus spoke Mr. Hooper to the mayor, sheriffs, and aldermen, whereat many of them mourned and lamented. Notwithstanding, the two sheriffs went aside to consult, and were determined to have lodged him in the common goal of the town, called Northgate, if the guard had not made earnest intercession for him: who declared at large, how quietly, mildly, and patiently he had behaved him­self in the way; adding thereto, that any child might keep him well enough; and that they themselves would sooner takee pains to watch with him, than he should be sent to the common prison. So it was at length deter­mined, he should still remain in Robert Ingraln's house; and the sheriffs and sergeants, and other officers, watched with him that night themselves. His desire was, that he might go to bed that night betimes; saying, that he had many things to remember • and so he did at five o'clock, and slept one sleep soundly; and bestowed the rest of the night in prayer. After he got up in the morning, he desired that no man should be suffered to come into the chamber, that he might be alone till the hour of execution.

            About eight o'clock came sir Richard Bridges, lord Shandois, with a great band of men, sir Anthony King­ston, sir Edmund Bridges, and other commissioners, appointed to see execution done. At nine of the clock, Mr. Hooper was willed to prepare himself; for the time was at hand. Immediately he was brought down from his chamber by the sheriffs, who were accompanied with bills and other weapons. When he saw the multitude of weapons, he spoke to the sheriffs: " Mr. Sheriffs, I am no traitor, neither needed you to have made such a busi­ness to bring me to the place where I must suffer: for if ye had willed me, I would have gone alone to the stake, and have troubled none of you all." Afterward, looking about upon the multitude of people that were assembled, (being by estimation to the number of 7OOO, for it was market-day, and many also came to see his behavior at his death,) he spoke unto those that were about him, saying, " Alas! why be these people assembled and come together? Peradventure, they think to hear something of me now, as they have in times past; but, alas! Speech is prohibited me. Notwithstanding the cause of my death is well known unto them. When I was appointed here

to be their pastor, I preached unto them true and sincere doctrine, and that out of the word of God: because I

will not now account the same heresy and untruth, this kind of death is prepared for me."

            So he went forward, led between the two sheriffs, (as it were a lamb to the place of slaughter,) in a gown of

his host's, his hat upon his head, and a staff in his hand to stay himself withal. For the pain of the sciatica, which he had taken in prison, caused him somewhat to halt. All the way, being. straitly charged not to speak, he could not be perceived once to open his mouth; but beholding the people all the way, who mourned bitterly for him, he would sometimes lift up his eyes towards

heaven, and look very cheerfully upon such as he knew and he was never known, during the time of his being amongst them, to look with so cheerful and ruddy a countenance as he did at that present. When he came to the place where he was to die, he beheld smilingly the stake and preparation made for him, which was near to the great elm-tree over against the college of priests, where he was wont to preach. The place round about, the houses, and the boughs of the tree, were full of people; and in the chamber over the college-gate, stood the priests of the college. Then he kneeled down (for­ asmuch as he could not be suffered to speak to the people,) to prayer, and beckoned six or seven times unto, one whom he knew well, to hear the said prayer, to make report thereof in time to come, pouring tears upon his shoulders and in his bosons, who gave attentive ears unto the same: the which prayer he made upon the creed, wherein he continued the space of half an hour. After he was entered into his prayer, a box was brought and laid before him upon a stool, with his pardon from the queen, if he would turn. At the sight whereof he cried, "If you love my soul, away with it; if you love my soul, away with it." The box being taken away, the lord Shandois said, "Seeing there is no remedy, despatch him quickly." Mr. Hooper said, " Good, my lord, I trust your LORDSHIP will give me leave to make an end of my prayers."

            Then said the lord Shandois to sir Edmund Bridges's son, who gave ear to Mr. Hooper's prayer, at his request, ~~ Edmund, take heed that he do nothing but pray, if he do, tell me, and I will quickly despatch him." Whilst this talk was, there stepped one or two uncalled, who heard him speak the following words, " Lord, I am hell, but you art heaven; I am a sink of sin, but you art a gracious GOD, and a merciful Redeemer. Have mercy therefore upon me, most miserable offender, after thy great mercy, and according to thine inestimable good­ness. You art ascended into heaven, receive me to be partaker of thy joys, where you sittest in equal glory with thy Father. For well knows You, Lord, where­fore I am come hither to suffer, and why the wicked do persecute thy poor servant; not for my sins and trans­gressions committed against thee, but because I will riot allow their wicked doings, to the denial of the knowledge of thy truth, wherewith it did please thee by thy Holy Spirit to instruct me; the which, with as much diligence as a poor wretch might, being thereto called, I have set forth to thy glory. And well seest You, my Lord and GOD, what terrible pains and cruel torments are prepared for thy creature: such, Lord, as without thy strength, none is able to bear, or patiently to pass. But all things, that are impossible with man, are possible with thee. Therefore strengthen me of thy goodness, that in the fire I break not the rules of patience; or else assuage the

terror of the pains, as shall seem most to thy glory."

As soon as the mayor espied these men, who made report of the former words, they were commanded away, and not suffered to hear any more. Prayer being done, he prepared himself for the stake, and put off his host's gown, and delivered it to the sheriffs, requiring them to see it restored unto the owner, and put off the rest of his clothes, unto his doublet and hose, wherein he would have burned. But the sheriffs would not permit that, such was their greediness, unto whose pleasures he obediently submitted himself; and his doublet, hose, and at waistcoat were taken off. Then being in his shirt, he took a point from his hose himself, and trussed his shirt between his legs, where he had a pound of gunpowder in a bladder, and under each arm the like quantity, delivered him by the guard. So desiring the people to say the Lord's prayer with him, and to pray for him, (who per­formed it with tears, during the time of his pains,) he went to the stake. When he was at the stake, three irons, made to bind him to the stake, were brought; one for his neck, another for his middle, and the third for his legs. But he refusing them said, " Ye have no need thus to trouble yourselves. For I doubt not but GOD will give strength sufficient to abide the extremity of the fire, without bands: notwithstanding, suspecting the weak­ness of the flesh, but having assured confidence in GOD’s strength, I am content ye do as ye shall think good." So the hoop of iron prepared for his middle was brought, which being somewhat too short, (for his belly had swollen with imprisonment,) he shrunk, and put in his belly with his hand, -until it was fastened; and when they offered to have bound his neck and legs with the other two hoops of iron, he said, a I am well assured I shall not trouble you." Thus being ready, he looked upon the people, of whom he might be well seen, (for he was tall, and stood also on an high stool,) and beheld round about him; and in every corner there was nothing to be seen but weeping and sorrowful people. Then, lifting up his eyes and hands to heaven, he prayed to himself. Presently he that was appointed to make the fire came to him, and asked him forgiveness. Of whom he asked, " Why he should forgive him?" saying, a that he knew no offence he had committed against him." u O sir," said the man, " I am appointed to make the fire." cc Therein," said Mr. Hooper, " you dost nothing offend me; GOD forgive thee thy sins; and do thine office I pray thee." Then the reeds were cast up, and he received two bundles of them in his own hands, embraced them, kissed them, and put under either arm one of them, and chewed with his hand how the rest should be bestowed, and pointed to the place where any did lack.

            Anon commandment was given, that the fire should be set to, and so it was. But because there were as many green faggots as two horses could carry, it kindled not soon, and was a pretty while also before it took the reeds. At length it burned about him, but the wind having full strength, (it was a lowering and cold morn" ing,) it blew the flame from him, so that he was in a manner no more than scorched by the fire. Within a space, a few dry faggots were brought, and a new fire kindled therewith, for there were no more reeds, and that burned at the nether part, but had small power above, because of the wind, saving that it did burn his hair, and scorch his skin a little. In the time of which fire, even as at the first flame, he prayed, saying mildly, and not very loud, but as one without pain, a O JESUS, Son of David, have mercy upon me, and receive my soul." After the second was spent, he wiped both his eyes with his hands, and beholding the people, he said, with an indifferent loud voice, For GOD’s love, good people, let me have more fire." All this while his nether parts did burn; but the faggots were so few, that the flame did not burn strongly at his upper parts. The third fire was kindled within a while after, which was more extreme than the other two; and then the bladders of gunpowder brake, which did him no good, they were so placed, and the wind had such power. In the fire he prayed with somewhat of a loud voice, " Lord JESUS, have mercy upon me; Lord JESUS, have mercy upon me, Lord JESUS, receive my spirit." And these were the last words he was heard to utter. But when he was black in the mouth, and his tongue swoln, that he could not speak, yet his lips went till they were shrunk to the gums; and he knocked his breast with his hands, until one of his arms fell off, and then knocked still with the other, (whilst water and blood dropped out at his fingers' ends,) until by renewing of the fire his strength was gone, and his hand did cleave fast -to the iron on his breast. So immediately bowing forwards, he yielded up his spirit.

            Thus he was three quarters of an hour or more in the fire. Even as a lamb he bore the extremity thereof, neither moving forwards nor backwards, nor to any side; but having his nether parts burned, and his bowels fallen out, he died as quietly as •a child in his bed: and he now reigns as a blessed martyr, in the joys of heaven.